Fare Thee Well
by snarkyroxy
Summary: A despairing mother unable to reach out to her only son in his time of need.


**Fare Thee Well**

by snarkyroxy

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_Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas._

_Author's Note: Rebecca (labrt2004) made me do it. Her prompt: Snape, Madam Pince, and inclusion of at least three lines from the following excerpt from the Vertical Horizon song "Forever". Thanks also to Rebecca for beta-reading._

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The sky is clear, the sunlight glinting on the water of the lake as I meander across the Hogwarts lawns. My seemingly purposeless wandering is designed to deflect suspicion of anyone who might be watching from the high windows of the castle… for I can feel them watching.

Perhaps it is foolish of me to be out here… a fool's errand brought on by nothing more than a feeling that you are close to me now. Yet, for all the bright sunlight and clear day contradicts my dark, despairing mood, I am pleased to be free from the oppressive cloud that has hung over all within the castle this past month. Without the students, the library is always silent and cold, and I won't deny in past summers I have been grateful for their absence. But not this year, for I do not know whether they – or I, for that matter – shall be returning come September.

Nothing is the same since you've gone. Fear permeates the very walls of the ancient castle… and it is fear of you. The supposed terror you fancied to imagine the students felt for you is nothing. Loss of House points, a detention of pickling toads. Empty threats and harshly-spoken words. They are nothing.

Now they know true fear. Fear of death. And their fear carries your name.

If they knew our association, I wonder if they would fear me, too?

A sudden breath of wind stirs my light summer robes, and I turn abruptly, a glimmer of brilliant white catching the corner of my vision.

Tall and pristine, the tomb of Albus Dumbledore stands a short distance away, the gleaming white marble a fitting testament to the gleam so often in the old wizard's eyes.

At any given time, a handful of witches and wizards can be seen standing by the monument, alone or in small, close-knit groups, paying their respects to the greatest wizard of our time.

Yet today, though the weather is fine, the sun warm and the castle grounds inviting, the tall, white monument stands alone.

Seemingly.

I move closer, some unconscious instinct drawing me into the fringes of the trees. Something tells me I cannot be seen. I must not be seen. But _I_ must see.

My wand up tucked away in my robes, but a soft Concealment Charm, barely audible on an exhalation of breath, ensures my anonymity, so long as I remain in the shadows of the trees. I peer intently at the base of the monument for minute after minute, hardly daring to breathe as I search for the impossible.

There!

A shifting in the bright marble, a ripple in the green grass.

I know it's you.

An image rises in my mind of what I would see were you not forced to mourn under cover of an Invisibility Cloak. Your long, pale fingers are tracing the carved words of memoriam, but your head is bowed, hidden by that curtain of dark hair. You cannot bear to read the words your fingers feel. The despair on your face is plain… there is no need to hide your emotions when you cannot be seen.

My inability to comfort you is agony.

Why, my son? What terrible subterfuge, what intricate plot forced your hand to commit such an act?

The long hours of day and night have seen my mind turning in circles, trying to understand what it was that truly happened on the tower, one month ago. I know there must be a reason, a logic behind the events of that night… whose logic, whose twisted and painful script you've been bound to follow, I do not know. Dumbledore's or Voldemort's… does it even matter which party forced your hand?

I can no longer see any hint of movement about the monument. Are you still standing there, wondering how it came to this, and wondering what end this long and bitter war may have in store for you now?

I fear it will not end well for you, my son.

I wish I could talk to you now. We've spoken seldom in years past, despite existing in such close proximity to one another. Too many things have I left unsaid.

I don't know if you feel me here, close to you now. You were always so aware of your surroundings, sensing danger before it was upon you. I pose no danger, but perhaps you can feel that someone is nearby. Take comfort in my nearness for these precious minutes, for I know not when – or if – we shall be so near again.

I can tell you one thing that's clear. No matter what they say, no matter how much evidence points towards the contrary, I know you're Dumbledore's man, just as surely as I know you're my son. He was the father your own could never be, and I cannot fathom the courage it took for you to take his life.

Oh, Severus, my young Prince, how did it come to this?

I must leave you now. One who does know who I truly am is suspicious of me, I fear. No questions have been asked, but I sense her eyes on me, wondering if a son will turn to his mother in desperate times.

You can, you know, if the need arises. Send word, somehow, and I will help you in any way I can. We Princes are resourceful; I will find a way.

The sun seems just a little colder as I make my way back to the castle. I turn briefly, halfway across the sweeping lawns, to glance back at the final resting place of Albus Dumbledore. The Concealment Charm I cast upon myself is failing, and I wonder if you are still there… Look up, I am here.

I should not expect a response. To show your face on these grounds would be death without chance of explanation. Go, go far away from here until this accursed war is over and we can understand the sacrifices you have made.

Fare thee well, my son.

-

_Finite_

_Author's Note: The lines I used from Rebecca's chosen song were:_

_Nothing is the same since you've gone._

_I wish I could talk to you now._

_I don't know if you feel me here._

_I can tell you one thing that's clear._

_As you may have gathered, I've drawn on the theory that the Hogwarts librarian is actually Snape's mother. Irma Pince I'm a Prince Eileen Prince. Unlikely, I know, but JK does seem to have a habit of wordplay when it comes to names. It worked for this prompt, anyway. :)_


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